Category: Romanian food

Somewhat paradoxically, we tend to believe the emergence of the supermarket, a place that stores all or most of our necessities, has improved our lives. Rest assured, the people in the pictures below were eating much better than most of us today. There is magic in knowing the guy who grows the food that ends up on your table, that raises the pork that becomes your steak and the picks up the juicy fruit you enjoy. Without idealizing too much, life was hard then for the majority of people, working the land is never easy. We might have traded that, but what have we gained instead? The same applies to eating out, we now do it almost as a prerequisite, some of us even as a compulsion. We don’t care that much about the space where eating and conviviality (should) take place, sometimes we don’t even care about the food itself. Let’s step back and also look back. In awe.

Most of the photographs in this article have been taken by the German- Romanian photographer Willi Pragher (1908- 1992) in Bucharest. Others have unknown authors or undetermined years of reference. Read More

People sometimes ask me about Romanian cuisine and, I confess, it’s not always easy to answer this question. Firstly, as a Romanian myself, I have a totally biased and very personal view on our cuisine; I relate most to my family cooking and to our regional, local food. In my region, we prefer strong flavors, food that packs a punch and feels like a taste explosion in your mouth. We amp the volume on the garlic, our sour broths are really sour, we’re not afraid of salt and pepper, we don’t shy away from the hot chilies, we like fatty, heavy meats. We the cure the meat and we smoke it; we eat it with the best pickles in brine. We add a hearty spoon of heavy sour-cream on top of most dishes (yes, Russian influences cross the borders), we pile up fresh parsley and dill atop the sour-cream. We embrace food that speaks to the soul and silences the hunger. I was lucky enough to have a food-loving grandma that came from a another region, with an entirely different style of cooking and ingredients choice. She liked mixing meats and fruits and making stews that combined sweet and savory flavors. My family lives rather close to the Transilvanian border, so after one hour drive, we can enjoy all the good Hungarian gulashes, dumplings and the works. It’s difficult to nail the entire Romanian cuisine in one paragraph: Romania is big, extremely diverse and, sometimes, peculiar as to what we throw in the cooking pot.

However, there are some common elements, no matter where. Romanian cuisine is simple, heavy, unpretentious, unsophisticated, abounding in all things deemed uncool or unhealthy by modern food trends. Our cuisine has been heavily influenced by all the waves of people that crossed our borders along the centuries. We have strong Turkish influences (koftas & co.), Greek (hello moussaka), Austrian (snitzel all the way) and even French influences from the turn of the century, when everything French was so fashionable. All these with a local spin and local ingredients, that one almost doesn’t recognize the original anymore.
Fundamentally, our cooking and our traditional cuisine is (also) socially driven: historically, we have been poor people, this is reflected in our food, too. We use a variety of herbs and weeds unknown to others (ramps, nettles, sorrel, red orach/ pig weed and so many more), we scout the forests for wild mushrooms, we eat every bit of an animal and, most times, we go for cheap staples. Given the people were poor and the food supply was scarce, we have become masters of preserving. We pickle, we smoke, we cure, we make jams and confitures, we make compots, we preserve everything that can be preserved.Religion also plays a big part, our heavy orthodox customs impose long fasting periods, so we do have lots of vegetarian and vegan dishes. Of course, no one refers to them this way, we just call it “fasting food” (with a rather disgusted grimace on our faces). Yes, we are a meat loving people and pork reigns supreme!
All this being said, there one thing that all Romanians love: from north to south, from east to west, this is something so utterly Romanian! For lack of a better word, I’ll just call it Romanian Polenta (mamaliga), but don’t be fooled, it’s not as fancy as the Italian version. Even though you only need three ingredients to make it (water, salt and coarse cornmeal), nailing it is far from being a trifle. As some one who takes pride in making good food, I needed years to learn how to make the Romanian Polenta properly. We eat it in a variety of ways, from substituting bread at meals, to mixing it with cheese and sour-cream or just dumping the mamaliga pieces in a bowl of fatty, warm milk. Here below, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite recipes of Romanian Polenta, all my foreign friends who tried it were instantly in love.

My grandma grew up in a rather bourgoise family, with all that entails. She had a private tutor for everything that was must-have skills for a young lady, from good manners to navigating her way in the kitchen with grace. She was a fabulous baker and she loved it! Growing up, I was fascinated by the entire alchimistic process: perched upon a kitchen stool, I was fiercely following her every move. She used to make the most grandiose cakes, cookies, biscuits, pies, crumbles, fruit dumplings that everyone in the family loved and enjoyed. Except me. I never had a sweet tooth, not even as a child. So in a grand gesture of love, once the cake was in the oven, she used to look at me and give me a playful smile. I knew I was saved, it meant it was time to make grissini! How can I describe these to you? She was gravitating more towards French cooking (so much in style when she was growing up) rather than classic Italian, so the consistency of the grissini was rather flaky, layered, buttery, a bit crispy, almost like a classic French dough with more weight and crunchiness. She always kept true to a simple topping: white, feta-like cheese and cumin seeds. Years later I realized it was, of course, Sanda’s classic recipe, with an unexpected twist. She made it look so simple, easy-peasy, that somehow, I always thought making grissini take 15 minutes on the clock. Lured in by this (fake) memory, I embarked on the adventure, but little did I know. Truth be told, I am not a great baker when it come to sweets, but this was different, right? In the end, all turned well and I feel that I, somehow, conquered this milestone, too. So roll up your sleeves, boys and girls, today we’re making grissini! Read More

Traditional Romanian meatballs are very different than the Belgian boulettes. If I weren’t so biased, I’d say they are much better, but hey!, I’m not even gonna dare going there. So what are the differences? Firstly, the composition. Romanian meatballs are made out of pork with lots of grated veggies and herbs inside. The Belgian ones are mostly beef, or a combination of pork and beef/ veal, onion and sometimes parsley. Then, there’s the shape. We like smaller, flat meatballs, while the Belgians make them large and round. And finally, there’s the cooking method. Traditionally, we roll the meatballs in flour and then deep fry them (I confess, I do the light version: no flour, simply cooked on the grill). As for the boulettes? They are, most of the times, fried in butter…yes, yes, this sounds delicious!

So, are you curious to know how the Romanian meatballs are made? Read More

Autumn means lots of mouth-watering stews, slowly cooked in the oven and a kitchen that smells divine. Here’s an adaptation from my childhood, a delicious plum and pork stew made by my grandma. My grandma came from a different part of the country, where fruit and meat mixed happily, where sweet and savory embraced each other and where it is very common to add fruit to lots of dishes. And boy, how well she did it! Both my dad and I are fans, my mom and grandpa (as far as I can remember) not so much. Well, their loss, don’t let it be yours, too. Read More

With the weather is chilling and turning colder each day, I feel I’m regaining my energy and my joie de vivre. I love cold weather food much more that any fancy summer salad, so I just can’t wait to get home from work and start cooking. Cold weather is a time for soups, slow-cooked stews, root veggies, preserves & pickles, pies and crumbles. Researching new recipes is sometimes the most fun a girl can have (or is it only this girl?), but I confess, I usually fall back on my faithful classics. It was not my idea to share this recipe today, but my man’s. Even though I argued anyone knows how to make chicken soup, he scolded me and said this is something for people to see and try. My dumpling chicken soup is apparently too good not to give it a shot. So please do 🙂 Read More

This is such an emotional story, I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know how to introduce this amazing woman to the rest of the world; I have the feeling whatever I’ll say won’t be enough. She is, without doubt, a hero. An unknown and underappreciated hero. But let’s take it one step at the time.

This is an old friend, a childhood love and a steady companion since forever. Very creatively named “potato food”, it celebrates the beauty of the potato and it’s everything you can hope for. All Romanians eat and love the potato food, it really is one of the most prominent dishes in our culture. Yes, it’s humble, it’s sometimes called “food of the poor”, it’s served in workers’ cantines, it’s basic, it’s the antonym of fancy…say what you want, but give it a try and you’ll fall in love! I will be forever grateful for this recipe, it saved me when 20 EUR was my weekly allowance that needed to cover food, beer & smokes. And looking at today’s economy and downward slope we’re on, I thought I’d just put it out there. It’s comforting to know that if you ever find yourself in times of trouble, you can cook something (very) cheap, nourishing and oh!, so delicious. Here goes!

After this lunch, my man told me my moussaka is glorious and it’s the best one he ate in his entire life. I thought it was one of the nicest things he ‘s ever told me and I blushed. Funny how after these maaaany years together I still blush and giggle (inside my head, of course, I don’t giggle in real life). For me, it has officially became the most romantic dish 🙂

How I achieved this expression of love? One portion moussaka, lots of real sour-cream (from the Polish shop), topped with fresh chives. One piece of Romanian maturated cheese and a colorful salad. As easy as that!

Looking back, I think I started loving moussaka simply because I was fascinated by it’s exotic name. Growing up in small, provincial town in the (almost) middle of nowhere, we didn’t have many fancy or exotic things around. Proving the point, I was about 6 when I ate my first banana: I hated it 🙂

But back to our moussaka. You’ll find a variety of recipes across Eastern Europe and while the Greeks and the Turks are still probably fighting over who created this amazing dish, I’m gonna share with you my grandma recipe. Most likely the best one out there.